And The Road Goes Ever On
by Rupert Brown
Summary: Gabrielle ponders her life now that the timeline has been readjusted, and things “are as they were before”. G/J


And the Road Goes Ever On Title:"And The Road Goes Ever On"

Serial Segment:1 of 1

"Type":G/J

Subtext:No. Subtext? What subtext? Never heard of the stuff. ;-)

Spoilers: At this point, who cares?! ;-)

Continuity Placement:

After "Friend In Need Part II" on the show, and post "Contest of Pantheons" in the "Xena: Warrior Princess" comicbooks that Dynamite Entertainment is putting out (which take up showing the events that happened after the show). It may be ancillary, but it is officially licensed.

Historian's Note:No known historical inaccuracies.

Synopsis:

Gabrielle ponders her life now that the timeline has been readjusted, and things "are as they were before".

Author's Note:

This serves as a bit of an emotional 'sequel' to another Gabrielle specific fic of mine I did back when the show ended, entitled "Reflection" which was itself at the time all about Gabby reflecting on her new situation in life (sans Xena and company). Go figure.

Archival Permission: Yes. As long as you ask nicely first. (Like anyone would want this tripe! ;-)

Disclaimer:

All characters within are the sole property of Universal. The use of herein characters is for private use only. No infringement is intended, either expressed or implied. All rights reserved. Copyright 2008.

And The Road Goes Ever On

By Rupert Brown

We're walking down a path, as we always have. The three of us. Xena, myself, Joxer. Traveling somewhere, the destination never as important as the journey itself. As it always was. Always will be.

He steps closer, and my stomach tightens. Things are again as they were, yet different. Since the change in the timeline, I'm the only one who remembers the old events. The old sorrows. The old heartbreaks. I'm the only one who remembers things that have now 'never been'. And while the future is wide and open and unwritten, I still know how certain people feel, even if they are not yet at a point of knowing it themselves. There is a burden in this, this knowing. I wonder if this must be how Cassandra felt before the fall of Troy.

For instance, I know that Joxer is in love with me. The funny thing is, I don't know if he's aware of it yet. I never knew _when_ he fell in love with me—just that he had.

Things were so—so complicated. He loved me, and I—couldn't? Wouldn't? Love him back. Too much of my life was absorbed with Xena. Her redemption. _My_ redemption. Blood. Death. My life was steeped with it. I had no time, no room, for anything else. Angst warred with remorse on a constant basis. My own sense of self was undone. Who was I? Was I that girl from a backwater village who hitched her star to a passing warrior, so long ago? Or was I that person who sought a way of peace, forsaking war and strife? Or was I instead that warrior who slaughtered Roman soldiers left and right, the rage and fury inside me finding sweet release through every cut my blade made?

Maybe I was the person who had tried to kill her own daughter? Or how about the person who wanted to settle down and marry? Who was I? What had I become? What was I _to_ become? I was haunted by the visage of my own past, and in doing so crippled my present, and hobbled my future. And in the midst of all this, to be told that I was in love with? I could not handle that.

But I had wanted to. Hadn't I told Joxer that when it looked like he was on his deathbed? Through all of my 'issues' I had still _wanted _to be in love with him—even though I could give no thought to the idea. Even then, there was a small voice somewhere that asked if mayhap I was the person who wanted to return his love, to realize my dormant feelings for him.

There was just too much to my life. My views, my thoughts, were too narrow. And then… And then he died. And then Xena died. Everyone died. And I was alone. Alone with my grief. Alone with my fears. Alone with myself.

I shake my head, clearing it. But that was then. Another time. A time that no longer existed. A time that no longer happened. Things were different now, yet the same.

My staff is back. My hair is back. My untouched womb is back. My blood innocence is back. Xena is back. Joxer is back. Everyone and everything is as it was. I have a second chance. A second chance to do things differently. But I also have something else. Foresight.

And now, here I am. No 'emotional baggage'. And here Joxer is, his simple love for me burning as brightly as before, but now I have the time, the emotional withal, to address it. To think about it. To accept it.

I now find myself wanting him to be around. I remember how I was overcome with the urge to tenderly kiss him when I saw that he was alive again. I am surprised by the callous, seemingly offhand, remarks I make about Meg. And I know Xena well enough to know that _she_ is wondering at my behavior. Though Joxer, bless him, doesn't have a clue.

Free of my burdens, my self-imposed expectations, I can now look at the situation detached. I realize that Joxer has many of the same traits I've found attractive in other men. I've teased Xena about her being drawn to 'bad boy' types. Whereas I've been lured by 'goody two-shoes' types. Iolaus, Talus, Perdicas…

I see him talking to Xena, his mishmash of armor clanging and jangling with every step he takes. He looks ridiculous, yet there is something endearing about him. Like myself, or Xena for that matter, he's trying to find himself, his place in the world. Trying to live up to other people's expectations.

I 'remember' how he stood up to Xena when she had wanted to kill me. I 'think back' to how his image was my guide through the land of Illusia. I reflect upon how many times we have worked together, alone, while Xena was off for one thing or another. How he had even been willing to die for me.

Inside him there is a simple goodness, a naivete that I, in my bitterness and self-recrimination, could not embrace. Could not value.

But now, things are different. He is here, and I am here. And I begin to feel stirrings I had thought long since dead. An itch that can't be satisfied, no matter how hard I scratch. I remember snatches of one of Joxer's multitude of songs about himself: "If you want a special tryst, he's the man you can't resist." By every measure he's a prize. My own sister fell for him. I fell for him while under Cupid's spell. But I also remember what Xena said to Joxer; that the gods put nothing into our hearts that wasn't already there.

If Xena is my 'soul mate', then so too is Joxer. All three of us are linked together by different bonds. While I love Xena, I feel that I could be _in_ love with Joxer. I did always see myself surrounded by grandchildren at the end, not dying on a distant battlefield.

And so I am given a new opportunity. To make of it, and this life, what I will. So, I guess the question is, what do I 'will' to be done?

* * *

"Joxer," the blonde bard said, coming up to the gangly figure. "Since Xena's going to be busy catching up on old times once we get to the village, how would you—" her voice seemed to catch, "What do you say we grab something to eat at the local inn?"

The would-be warrior blinked in surprise. "Uh—um, yeah. Sure; that sounds great."

"Good." She breathed, almost in relief. "Oh, and Joxer…"

"Yeah?"

"You're buying." Smiling mischievously, she gave his nose an affectionate tweak.

THE END


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